1. The unexpected
My nails were disintegrating like dried leaves. I couldn't keep them away from my teeth, my head always turning to that window.
A retro red convertible was pulling up our street, looking like it belonged in a collection garage rather than my quaint village.
A mess of copper and a billowy blue button down were bleeding from behind that cristal clear windshield.
I didn't dare think it would stop at my-well, our- house but it did. He got out of that fiery jewel, a 280SL Mercedes, Roadster Red and gave the garden a good look over through his dark lenses. It was as if he arrived at his own place, no awkwardness in his moves. His glasses finally came off, only for his eyes to fall on the kitchen window, on me.
I held his stare, hoping for something. It only revealed curiosity and amusement, the corner of his lip lifting up in a grin. Finally, he turned his head towards the gate, breaking our stare down.
My breath was short as I walked towards the metal gate, my insides churning with something warm and intense. Something strong like the sea green of his eyes, or mysterious like that slope between his slender neck and sturdy shoulders.
It took me a few seconds to realize I've been caught staring and another one to notice he was doing the same. I felt no shame, probably from the fact that I just got out of bed and still had no coffee, despite it being noon.
"And you are…" The words trailed out of my mouth, pleasantries forgotten. It seemed like the two of us were past that point anyway.
"I apologise, ma'am. I must be bothering you right now." He dropped his head down in a gesture of apology, his hair coming over his eyes. The tan of his skin complimented everything about him, his eyes, his hair, his velvet voice, the reverence in his tone. He was beautiful.
He continued, "You must be Dr. Swan?"
"Yes? And you are…?"
Mortification filled me as sudden memories of this man on fluorescent corridors ghost my mind. He was good, well, more like one of the hospital's best trauma surgeons, besides Alec. My hand fled to my forehead, "You are Edward? Dr. Cullen, aren't you? It took me a moment to recognise you without scrubs on! I'm so sorry, Alec told me he was expecting you-"
"Don't worry about it. It is my fault. I should have made sure you expected me first. I made a call, but no one answered. I hope you will forgive my unexpected arrival."
"Shush! Come on in, no point in wasting time at the door." I took up the stairs towards the kitchen quickly, the tall man behind me. "I'm sorry, I was sleeping, so I didn't hear you ringing." I pulled my hair away from my face, suddenly feeling hot from embarrassment. "I've been working night shifts lately" I add, hopelessly trying to explain my erratic behaviour.
"Poor creature! Happy to have you on board, though I do feel a tad bit bad for you."
I laugh, "What is the driving motivation behind working in this field other than pure masochism." I try to shrug it off, rubbing my eyes tiredly.
A sudden, palpable silence filled the kitchen, not awkward, just heavy with something. His eyes were on my face, lost away in thought. I turned on the coffee machine just for the excuse of doing something. "How do you like it? Sweet, creamy, rough?" I pour roasted beans Into the grinder. I let him simmer for a little, not fully knowing myself what answer I wanted to elicit from him.
"Black is fine." His voice was lower, forcefully monotone. I smiled to myself.
"Well, we match"
My heart was a little lighter the moment I saw the pitch black liquid, follows by golden cream, filling the delicate porcelain cups. Salvation, at least. This scent was the only thing pulling me out of bed nowadays.
I sat down at the white kitchen table as I put down our coffee cups. Finally, I dared to take off the silk robe, feeling too warm with my hair down and the sun rays against my back.
His eyes drew to my exposed skin now that I was only in my favorite nightgown. Yellow silk, draped against every curve, matching with the robe. His eyes turned away. Of course, he was a gentleman.
I should have hated myself for wanting him to stare a little longer, but I didn't.
This was going to be interesting.
"So…why are you here, Edward?" My fingers tapped against the porcelain cup, only to realize how bad they looked in their bitten state. I quickly pulled my hand in a fist, trying to hide them away.
Edward watched every move. He talked while his eyes where still on my fist.
"You know Alec assigned me some of his patients for this month. Problem is, I don't have the past files of at least 5 of them. Alec told me he's got some copies here."
"Well, yeah, he should…I'm going to check the cabinets and give them to you, ok?"
"Grand, thank you!"
The conversation came to a stilt, and our coffee still had to be finished. He technically got what he came here for, and I could go back to my bed, but our meeting felt unfinished.
"So…what brings you to Italy? You don't really sound Italian…Dublin?" I try to guess, the origin of his accent still plaguing my mind.
"Felt like a change would be nice…and you are slightly wrong…by only 100 miles. I'm from Limerick, born and raised. What brings you to Italy? Other than your name, which is lovely, by the way, nothing sounds Italian about you."
It doesn't escape my notice that he doesn't ask why we are here, the question is only directed at me.
"Felt like a change…" I immitate his words from earlier, "Alec and his family are from here, this is his childhood home…they came to America when he was 10."
"Wow, that must have been a change…"
"Yeah, it was, have you noticed you can still hear his accent when he says certain words?"
"Hmm, yes, actually" he rubs his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face. "What about your roots?" Edward asks as he swishes the coffee inside the cup.
"As American as it gets. I'm from a small town close to Portland and Seattle."
"Hmm, yeah, you do have that look…" he mutters, his eyebrows raising comicly.
I snort "What look?"
"You know it…that collected, cold, mysterious one. You look like someone who comes from a rainy green place." His green eyes fixate on me, not wanting to let go, like he is searching for something.
"Well, so do you" I trail off, and maybe that's why I couldn't keep my eyes off him all along. I see in him something that I have been missing in myself, something warm and familiar, that feels like returning home.
The thought makes my chest ache. It's too much and without a thought I get up from the table.
"I'm going to grab you those files" the excuse comes easily.
Edward lifts from the table, "let me help you, those boxes of paperwork are often heavy-"
"There is no need, I don't think there is more than one light box." The words come out of my mouth more abruptly than I would want too. He looks at me with concern but lets it go.
I can't get out of the room faster. The way I've been feeling starts catching up with me, like waking up in a horrid dream. Once inside my bathroom, I throw cold water on my face, hoping it would alleviate the hot shame.
Edward is waiting on the couch when I'm back with the things he needs. By now I have changed in my day clothes, the nightwear he found me in feeling too intimate for this encounter.
When I enter the room his eyes are immediately on me. I was wrong. I could be wearing 10 layers of clothing and I would still feel naked in his eyes. It's like he reads the discomfort in my body. Suddenly, the corners of his mouth turn down and his eyes harden. It's like both of our bodies are looked inside cages drawn by our minds.
"Grand. Thanks, Bella." He lifts up from the table to wash his coffee cup in the sink before I can object.
"No problem…"
He sits against the kitchen countertop, his thoughtful face staring down at the tiles. "When do you start your shift, Bella?"
His question takes me by surprise, "By 8 I'm supposed to be in the ER. Why?"
"Well, I'm stationed tonight and I have to check on my hospitalized patients. I have to be there at around the same hour, and Alec told me you were having issues with your car, so I was wondering if you wanted me to pick you up?" He words the last part as a question, uncertainty in his voice.
"Alec asked you to do it?" I try to hide the incredulous tone that wants to creep in. Alec could care less about how I handle my life. When he is focused on a project, everything outside of that pales in importance. Including me.
"Well, no, but he did mention your…how did he say…Finicky rubble of steel…And I promise you I do not agree with his attitude because that rubble" he points towards my black Mustang Fastback, "deserves nothing but veneration."
I can't contain my laugh at the awe in his words, "I see, you know your cars. Your rubble certainly isn't easy to overlook either." I get closer to him, unable to stay in my place when I see the cocky smile on his face. "Tell me, aren't you terrified you will destroy that pretty polish every time you pull out of the garage?" I ask, my voice lowering word by word without even realizing.
"Well, isn't that what makes it so good of a ride?", I feel the espresso on his breath mixed with the leathery scent of his skin and the way he says that last word lights a fire deep inside of me because I can swear that, in this second, while his eyes are shameless and his body lax, he is talking about more than his fucking car.
"Okay, Edward, you convinced me. I will ride with you tonight." I say the words slowly, watching the way his fists tighten around the counter top, the downward direction of his gaze, the way his eyes are fixed on my mouth, on my neck. If I were a worse woman I would have raised my chin up and waited for his heated blow.
I also didn't have to be a better woman, because he quickly turned away his body. The kitchen wasn't filled with golden rays anymore, the sun having gone beneath the clouds.
"Sound, I will pick you up at 7:30? The traffic shouldn't be too bad by then."
"7:30 is grand, Boyo!" I try to keep a serious tone as I say it but I can't manage to keep in the giggles when I see his distraught face.
"Isabella, you might know your slang, but please don't ever use that word again." He tries to keep a solemn face, but the corners of his lips turn up.
"Ok, I apologize, I was just trying to slag you." I put my hands up in an exaggerated gesture of apology.
"Har-har, well, if you want to be acting the maggot than who am I to give out about it?" He back walks, hands shoved in his navy pockets, a wide grin on his face.
"7:30, Cailín!" He yells out of his 280SL, the strong hum of the car coming to life.
I wave my hand in goodbye. As I watch him go, the tall green mountains and blue sky around us, I know things won't ever be the same.